Beyond Roots
by Jearze
Summary: Stenny, K2, Creek, Style. Kenny's back from Iraq and wants to have 'fun'. Rated T for language...M for heavy gore, rape, and smut in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**My first ever fic, I have to admit, I'm excited. Slashes throughout this story include Stenny, K2, Creek, and one-sided Stendy. Enjoy!**

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><p>"<em>We will meet again my friend,<em>

_A hundred years from today_

_Far away from where we lived_

_And where we used to play._

_We will know each others' eyes_

_And wonder where we met_

_Your laugh will sound familiar_

_Your heart, I won't forget._

_We will meet, I'm sure of this,_

_But let's not wait till then...Let's take a walk beneath the stars_

_And share this world again."_

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><p>So. Fucking. Bored.<p>

Yep, those three words seemed to sum up his mood just fine.

Stan sat on the old, worn-out bench of Stark's Pond silently, watching the sunset over the horizon as he surfed the internet on his phone mindlessly. Youtube? Maybe later. Myspace? Boring. Facebook? Not after what happened last time.

Stan sighed as he stuck the electronic device back in his pocket. There must have been a million people in his contacts, but no one worth starting a conversation with. Some from the football team, some from the cheerleading squad. They were all idiots.

He looked over the horizon, noticing a boy and his father playing catch a ways back. Stan sighed. He sure missed his dad. No, he wasn't dead, he was on a business trip. Pretty old fashioned and cliché if you asked Stan, but y'know, what can you do?

He closed his eyes, outstretching his neck towards the clouds. Sleep dangerously tempted him as his eyesight became blurrier and blurrier.

_***Beep***_

Shit, never mind.

Stan dug in his back pocket, grabbing his Android clumsily. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes groggily, yawning while doing so. He took in a sharp breath through his teeth as the blinding light emerged from his phone. Finally snapping out of it, he squinted at the screen uneasily, trying to make out the tiny words.

**1 New Message**

**Clyde:**

"**Did u hear? Kenny's home!"**

**Ignore?**

Psssh. _Hell_ no.

Stan stared at the mobile device in his gloved hand. Reading this message nearly made him shit himself, surely. How long had it been? Two years? No. _Three? _That sounded about right. Three years. Three years ago was when Kenny was drafted into the army, and at the tender age of fifteen, too. _Three fucking years. _

And he was finally back.

_Finally. _

After reading the message over one hundred times, Stan leaped off the bench he was sitting on, not stopping to apologize to the old couple he'd nearly knocked over, and dashed home. Kenny was back? He was really, truly back? The more he thought about it, the more unreal it seemed. Yet, the message was clearly read several times. Clyde had better not be lying, Stan would kick his sorry ass if he was.

**New Message - Select Contact - Kyle + E. Cartman - Compose:**

"**Kenny's back! Meet me at the airport!"**

Stan threw open his bedroom door, digging throughout his closet. After a few minutes of rummaging, he came across a brown pair of gloves. Kenny had left them the last time they studied at his house. Stan smiled; it was too long ago. He had been meaning to give them back to him earlier, but had never gotten the chance to, because, well, you know why. He couldn't wait to see that poor boy they all knew and loved once again. It was a miracle.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, turd?"

Stan looked up at the figure looming beside the door frame. He couldn't hold it in any longer, he _had _to tell someone. His smile beamed. "Shelley! Kenny's back from Iraq, he's back!" Not knowing what he was doing, Stan threw his arms around his sister, causing her to squirm in his death-love grip. Finally building up enough strength, she shoved him back to the floor.

"Ugh, whatever! Just keep your gross hands off of me!" She started, a disgusted frown on her lips.

"Oh, and if you think mom is gonna let you go out at 10:30, you've got another thing coming."

Stan scoffed. "I'm 18, that's adult age. She can't control my curfew anymore."

"Alright, but if your car breaks down again, I'm not picking your ass up." she retorted.

Stan slung his coat over his shoulder, stuffing the gloves into his pockets. He looked at her, a serious expression on his face.

"Screw off, Shelley."

Suddenly, a beep informed him he had a new message in his back pocket. It seemed to be from _Kyle._

/

Vibration.

"Huh?"

**1 New Message**

**Stan: -**

Kyle stared at the message on his cell for almost 2 minutes, choking on his drink. His eyes grew with disbelief every second. Kenny? Back? No fucking way. Kyle grabbed his jacket off the rack; it threatening to tip as he did so. He rushed up the steps to grab his shoes, causing his mother, Sheila, to move to the side. to avoid being knocked over.

"Kyle Broflovski, what on earth is your hurry?" she shouted from the hall.

"He's back, mom! Kenny- he's back!" Kyle replied, the most uncanny smile resting on his lips. Sheer joy shone in his eyes like a diamond. Sheila's happiness was masked with a disapproving frown.

"Well gee bubby, it's getting kind of late, can't you see your little friend tomorrow?"

Kyle's excitement quickly melted into grief .

"Mom! All the guys are going to meet him at the airport, I _have_ to go!"

"Kyle-"

"_Mom..!"_

She looked down at the pleading son, it almost looked as if he were about to cry. How could she say no? Those big, green orbs were like magic. She re-placed the crooked hat on his head. The same old ushanka he'd always had. It grew worn, but still did the job just fine. She smiled at her son, straightening the orange coat on his shoulders. It seemed like the motherly thing to do, after all.

She sighed melancholically. "Alright, sweetie. Just don't be out too late."

The red-headed boy smiled, throwing his mother a quick hug before rushing down the stairs, and out the door.

**Reply: **

"**Holy shit, dude! Of course!.." **

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><p><strong>Not too long. Thanks for reading chapter one! Reviews would make me sooooo happy.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

"_As I look  
>Beyond the ripples of my reflections<br>To examine my inner self;  
>The ripples begin to fade . . .<br>As the reflection lays beside me  
>Grasping my hand,<br>The inner warmth shields me  
>And the vision of my reflection appears<br>I see you. My Friend."_

Stan checked his watch.

10:45.

"Dammit…"

He was already fifteen minutes late. Fucking wonderful. He shuffled quickly through the moist of the melting slush. _'This is awesome.'_ He thought to himself. _'Kenny actually comes back from Iraq after three years and here I am taking my sweet time. You're pathetic, Stan Marsh.'_

He felt bad. He knew Kyle would give him a small lecturing when he arrived. It didn't matter though, he was used to it. After all, Kyle was his best friend, he knew how to handle it.

He wondered how Kenny looked after all these years. Better? Worse? Perhaps he's grown some muscle… What if he'd gotten wounded and was covered in bandages? Or worse…what if he died…?

He shook the unpleasant thought from his mind and scoffed in disgust of himself. He couldn't be dead. This is _Kenny _we're talking about. He could pull off anything, especially not dying.

Hopefully.

He approached the airport and looked throughout the crowd. Eventually he saw his usual gang of friends, all huddled up in a rather crude circle. Eric, Kyle, Craig, Clyde, Token, Tweek, Butters; and it seemed Wendy, Bebe, Heidi, Lola and Red decided to show up as well. Stan cocked his head slightly, surprised by his girlfriend and her posse's cameo appearance. Whatever. He was grateful having the girls excited for Kenny's being.

He ran up to them, beaming.

"Hey guys-!..."

His voice trailed off. He felt his limbs go numb and his throat dry, for he looked up, and there was Kenny. He still had his usual mop of golden hair, along with his unmistakable orange parka; unzipped, so that it exposed a plain white tank top, along with silver dog tags.

"K-K-K…"

The blonde smiled at his friend's distortion of words. The others kept to themselves, smiling at the united moment.

Kenny ruffled his hair gently. "Hey dude…"

Stan stared in disbelief. He was still in awe of the minute. Kenny had gotten taller, about an inch or two taller than him. _He _used to be the tallest of the four, now, it was obviously Kenny.

Stan's eyes grew heavy from pulling back tears. The veteran saw this and smiled once more, outstretching his arms. The raven took the hint right away and threw his arms around his neck, burying his face into the other teen's neck. He inhaled his scent: Cigarettes, alcohol, and pine needles.

He smelled like Kenny.

The girls aww'ed in unison, clasping their hands together. Clyde did the same, hoping to get some positive reaction out of them, while the other guys smiled. (except Cartman, who muttered something about fags) Soon enough though, everyone was enjoined in the embrace, converting it into a group hug. (…except Cartman)

It lasted a few moments, before Kyle stated to give Kenny some space.

"Awweh, c'mon Kyle." Bebe pouted, folding her arms tightly around her chest. Kenny whistled flirtatiously at the sight of the other blonde squeezing her breasts between her arms unknowingly. She immediately saw her error and punched him in the arm playfully, earning a couple snickers from Token and Clyde.

Kyle turned to Stan.

"So where were you? We had these big-ass fireworks forming a picture of all our faces while Metallica sang to us."

"Pfft, shut up dude."

The day-walker patted the boy's shoulder jokingly as Token shimmied his way to Kenny, looking up at him.

"Hey, Kenny, We were all going to go to my place for a party after this since you're back and everything."

"A party huh?" he smiled. "Ah, I don't know, it's been a while…"

Cartman scoffed. "C'mon Kinny, we already got the chips, music and vodka. Stop being an asshole."

"Guys seriously, I've waited fucking forever for a sweet party, but I should really concern my parents…"

"Already taken care of," said Red, holding up her cell phone. "Your mom said you can have fun tonight, and visit them tomorrow!"

"We invited the whole grade!" Lola beamed. "Everyone is going to be there!"

Kenny quickly shook off his uncertainty. "Uh, sure! A party…that'd be awesome!"

"I-I told you fellas he'd like the idea!" spoke a voice belonging to Butters.

"Alright, let's get the hell out of this airport then!" Clyde grinned, leading the way while the girls, then the guys followed. Except Kenny.

"You guys can go ahead…I'm just gonna drop by home quick, see my old room and stuff…" he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Kyle shrugged. "Sure dude. Hurry up, though."

"Aheh, you bet." Kenny winked at the red head and ran down the street in the direction of his home.

Tweek fiddled with his shirt sleeve nervously. "Nngh, wh-what was that all about…?"

Butters turned. "Well, what do you mean Tweek?"

"I mean…" he stopped to scratch his arm hesitantly. "He was acting a little jumpy…a-and he had bags under his eyes..!"

Cartman scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Look who's talking."

"No…" spoke Craig quietly. "Tweek is right, something's up…"

"Oh whatever Craig, you're just saying that because you have a boner for Tweek."

Craig spun angrily at the fatter boy.

"Shut up fat-ass, I'm serious!"

Token smiled reassuringly. "C'mon guys, take it easy. Nothing's wrong with Kenny. I mean, he's been in _Iraq_, he needs to take it easy."

Stan's head cocked once more in confusion. "Then why are we having this party?"

"Dude," Kyle stated, taking a hold of Stan's shoulder. "This is _Kenny; _drinking vodka _is _taking it easy for him."

He shrugged, still a bit unsure. (Taking the side of Tweek and Craig.) Then he remembered.

"Aw, shit…" he said, searching around in his coat pocket, only to pull out the pair of brown gloves from earlier.

Butters stared at them, puzzled. "Are those Kenny's?"

"Yeah," he replied. "He left them at my house awhile ago when we were studying. I was going to give them back to him but I-"

"Got totally choked up in the gay experience?"

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose in utter annoyance. "Cartman, I swear to God I'll kick your ass right here…"

"Let's go then bitch, I'll drop your ass!"

Stan stepped forward in a threatening manner, but Kyle stopped it before it could even begin. Which Stan had to admit he was grateful for. I mean, he had more muscle, but Cartman had more weight and could crush him in an instant.

"Come on, guys. Knock it off," Kyle stated, rolling his eyes. "Let's try to make it one night without the talk of ass-kicking."

_"Cartman." _Stan acknowledged.

"Ay!"

Kyle sighed. There was no use trying to stop Cartman. Really, he _knew. _

He glanced over his shoulder at Craig and Tweek, getting into Craig's car. They both looked a little on-edge—nervous, one could say…But for what purpose? Had Kenny really acted differently?

Kyle stepped into his car, staring down the road Kenny had disappeared into.

Maybe...


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Comments:**

**Yeah, I decided I am going to try and upload every Sunday. Unfortunately, I will not be here next this Sunday, so I am just going to submit this one right away. Sorry if it sucks :(**

**South Park is not mine and yadda yadda yadda.  
><strong>

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><p>"<em>Lately I've been hard to reach…<br>I've been too long on my own…  
>Everybody has a private world,<br>Where they can be alone…  
>Are you calling me?<br>Are you trying to get through?  
>Are you reaching out for me?<br>I'm reaching out for you."_

_ -Eminem, Beautiful_

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><p>It was 12:57<p>

Kyle looked around curiously. The party started _two hours ago, _and Kenny still hadn't arrived. This party was for _him, _so where the hell was he? Really, Kyle would've _loved_ to drown all his troubles in alcohol right when the party started, but he refused to drink until the blonde got there. Come to think of it, Tweek and Craig hadn't shown up yet, either.

"Kyle..!"

The day-walker arched his head behind himself, searching for the voice that had called his name. It was Stan, fumbling throughout the crowd of people, making his way to him. He wasn't drunk, just a bit tipsy.

"Dude, Token is wasted, he's giving away his money!" he grinned. "You gotta come upstairs!"

Kyle's eyes widened. Token didn't seem like the type to get hammered at parties. Yet, he glanced behind Stan's shoulder only to see the rich boy throwing his funds in the air, people grabbing mercilessly at the greenish-yellow paper like they were everything.

Kyle grimaced. Money, something that could buy anything at anytime. Sure, it was nice, but sure as hell couldn't buy happiness. It brought his mind back to Kenny; how the poverty-stricken blonde could always find means of entertainment and joy without it. Him thinking of Kenny just kept reminding him how Kenny wasn't there, at _his_ party.

"Save some for me, I guess," he spoke, grabbing his jacket off the coat hanger. "I'm gonna go look for Kenny."

"Kenny's not here yet?" Stan questioned, a dumbfounded look on his face. "Okay, I'll go with you."

"No dude, it's alright." The red-head smiled, grabbing a water bottle off the snack table and handing it to him. "You need to sober up; you know your body can't handle too much alcohol."

Stan shrugged, taking the bottle from his friend. He gave a warm smile and thanks of appreciation and walked off, leaving Kyle in the doorway. He sighed, brushing some loose strands of hairs from his face and walked out in search for his black Subaru.

As he passed Token's front yard fountain, he stopped. He looked at its beautiful features, and thought. Just thought. He didn't know what made him think so hard, or what made him stop in the first place, what with the muffled, blaring music from the mansion, it all just seemed to melt away. But what he thought most about he didn't want to believe. Dare say he had _forbidden_ himself to believe.

He was falling for Stan Marsh.

He groaned to himself and clutched the ears of his hat in annoyance. This was pathetic, so cliché. The best friend falling for the jock; it made Kyle want to puke. He hated all that fantasy romance shit, he really did. But he just couldn't stop thinking about it. Stan and Kyle. Kyle and Stan. He loved the way they sounded together, girly as it seemed.

He felt he knew this already, though he forced himself to push it aside whenever the raven brushed their hands together. Besides, he was with _Wendy, _which meant he was straight. Kyle for one was bi-curious—but didn't want to be. Boys couldn't fall for other boys…could they?

_'Don't think about it right now,'_ he told himself, ignoring the fact he was a lovesick mess. _'Remember: Kenny.'_

But before he left, he took a single penny from his pocket, and glanced once more at the fountain.

"I'm such a pussy…" he sighed, and threw the coin into the water.

He pulled into Kenny's driveway soon after, for it was a short drive. He hadn't been here in so long. While Kenny was gone, it was almost too heartbreaking to look at, the thought on him never coming back—it was awful. The lights were off and there were no other cars. Kyle almost re-thought this whole thing, but decided against it. He jerked open his car door and shut it quietly. He took a quick glance at the time on his phone.

1:30.

Kyle shook his head. The party would be ending soon.

He walked up to the disheveled door, stained with dirt and what looked like cat urine. He shivered at the untidy display. Kenny sure lived in a sickening atmosphere; Kyle almost didn't want to touch the door. Luckily, he didn't have to, for Kenny opened it before him.

"Kyle?" he questioned, studying the boy over curiously. "What are you doing here?"

Kyle stiffened, obviously more surprised than the blonde. Kenny's eyes were pink and swollen, almost as if he'd been crying. He ignored it though. He straightened his jacket and cleared his throat. "Wh-what am I doing here? How come you're not at your party?"

"Oh…" Kenny sighed. "_That_…"

"Yeah, _that_." Said the day-walker, crossing his arms over his chest in a pouting way. "Everyone's waiting for you!"

"Yeah, I'm not going…"

"What?"

"I'm not going," repeated the blonde, walking back into his house. Kyle followed, scoffing.

"So we all throw you a party and you decide not to show up? Are you some kind of arrogant bastard or what?"

Kenny sighed. "Kyle, if you knew why I couldn't go, you'd understand. Granted, you'd kill me, but you'd still understand."

"Then tell me why!"

"I…can't."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "You _can't _or you _won't_?"

"Please," the other boy said, sitting down on his couch and burying his face in his wrists. "I just…can't."

Kyle heaved a heavy sigh and sat down next to the deprived teen.

"You know you can tell me anything."

"Yeah…I know."

Kyle wanted to know. _Bad_. He tried to squeeze his way through to him.

"You don't _have_ to tell me, I'm just saying you can when you're ready..."

"I'm _not _going to tell you dude, you can stop trying to guilt me into it!"

His voice was louder now, more aggressive. Kyle immediately quieted down, knowing there was no use arguing about it. He gently placed an arm on the veteran's back, making him flinch. After he calmed down, he rubbed his back slowly and silently, noticing tears in the other boy's eyes. He frowned. Seeing Kenny cry was like watching a helpless kitten. He wanted to help him, he really did, but if Kenny didn't want to tell him, he'd just have to deal with it. He sighed and got up.

"Okay, well, I'm going to leave now…"

"Wait—"

Kenny grabbed the red-head's forearm tightly, making him sit back down on the sofa. He wanted to object, but knew Kenny needed him right now, whatever it was that he did.

"What if…" he began. "…What if you did something so terrible, that you couldn't tell anyone? Not even your best friend…?"

Kyle shifted uneasily. He was Kenny's best friend? It was touching; he felt bad for calling him an arrogant bastard. Though, he wished he hadn't asked what was wrong, because whatever this was, he really did not want to get into it. But he was already too far in to pull out, so he had to say something.

He opened his lips to speak, but silently shut them as the blonde went on.

"What if you did something so disgraceful that _no one_ could find out…._ever_? It would ruin everything you once stood for, and everything you were once grateful for…"

Wow, Kyle had never heard Kenny talk in such a manner. This was quite formal for his vocabulary, he had to admit. But he just wished he knew what Kenny was talking about; it would make everything so much easier.

"Well…" the Jew spoke silently. He meant to go on, but he honestly could say that he'd never been in the same situation. Kenny heard the tension in his voice and shook his head. "Never mind," he concluded. "You can go."

Kyle fumbled with the loose strings of thread on the pillow next to him. At first getting out of that house was his first priority, but now the last thing he wanted to do was leave. He couldn't leave his friend like this, it was a sin.

He scooted a few inches closer to the troubled teen and wrapped his arms around him gently. Kenny didn't flinch this time, but returned the embrace as quickly as it came, for he desperately needed it at the moment. He turned his body so the hug wasn't so awkward, and buried his face into the shorter boy's neck. Kyle shivered as the hot tears ran down his neckline, leaving a wet path behind them. He once again rubbed the blonde's back comfortingly, seeming to make him ease his shoulders a bit.

The hug was eventually released, and the two boys stared at each other for a moment. Kyle stared into Kenny's eyes, glossed with tears. Perhaps he was different. Kenny wasn't usually one to cry so easily, so he must had done something really bad. Not to mention he bags under his eyes, as Tweek had stated earlier. Fuck, his _whole face _looked messed up_. _

His eyes were paler. They used to be such a beautiful crystal-clear pools; now, they were shrouded with unholy grayness and clouds.

And there were scars. Scars that he hadn't noticed when they first reunited. Of course, most were healed over time, but some looked newer, fresher. Must too fresh to have happened while in Iraq.

Wait, those weren't _scars…_

"Is that blood…on your face?"

This question totally caught Kenny off guard, almost making him fall off his couch. Kyle's face twisted in confusion. It was just a question. He would've believed Kenny was out killing squirrels or something, really.

"I-it's…what? N-no, there's no blood on my face..." he answered, chuckling nervously to make it sound like it wasn't a big deal. He spat on his orange sweatshirt sleeve and rubbed his cheeks with it thoroughly, or wherever the blood was.

To his obliviousness, doing so caused his sleeve to slip down his arm a bit, exposing many gruesome, obviously infected cuts. Once spotted, Kyle immediately stood up, now uncomfortable in the ambiance of the McCormick household. He pointed at the taller one's wrist and forearm, shaking nervously. He was scared, He had no idea why, but he was.

"Y-y-your wr-wrist…"

Kenny glanced up at him curiously, but then saw where he was getting at, giving out a hardy _"God dammit…!"_, covering the slits back up as best as he could.

Those definitely were _not _battle wounds. They couldn't be. Those were from Kenny himself—those were _self-harm _cuts.

Kyle's fright took the best of him. He was quivering ferociously now, face flushing from all color it once had. The blonde tried to calm him, trying to tell him it wasn't a big deal.

"_Not a big deal…!"_ he shouted, though he knew he should have been sensitive about the situation, but he just couldn't. "You're fucking _cutting _yourself! Why the hell didn't you _tell me!"_

_ "That's _why!"Kenny defended, standing up angrily. "You don't fucking understand, I _knew_ you wouldn't!"

"You're right, I _don't_ understand! Now, why didn't you _really _tell me!"

"It's not like I can fucking call from _Iraq,_ dick hole!" he shouted, clenching his fists. "Besides, when is my personal life suddenly your business?"

"Because you're my friend, dude! I care about you!"

"Really? Then it wouldn't kill you to give two shits about me when I died?"

"What the hell are you talking about...?"  
>"Ugh, forget it!" the veteran barked, lashing an arm out only to knock over and break a nearby lamp.<p>

Kyle stood down, taking a defending step backwards. He shot a cold, misty stare at him before shaking his head and running out of the house in tears. Kenny stood there alone, just like before. Alone. Again.

He wiped off the excess blood from his face and made his way to the backyard, where an unusually deep hole took place. He peered down inside it, looking at the bloodied remains of his parents, Carol and Stuart McCormick. He glowered at them coldly. Disgusting alcoholics, it made him sick. He took the tub of kerosene sitting nearby and poured it in the hole, not wasting a single drop. He sighed and took a single match from his pocket and lighting it.

"See you in hell, you drunken bastards."

And with that, he threw the death stick into the pit, creating a blazing and scorching mass of flames—all the signs of a perfect murder.

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><p><strong>AHHH! Murder Kenny! :L Ahaha, sorry. I just always loved the idea of Kenny being some sexy badass murderer ;) Whatever. There will be a lot more of that once they to Kenny's "uncle's" :0 R&amp;R please! <strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Guys I'm so sorry for being really lazy with this, I just haven't been finding time. Sorry if some of it sucks, I worte this really early in the morning. Anyway, he we gooooo.**

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><p>"<em>I trust the dirt, I trust the rain<br>I trust the cars, I trust the train  
>I trust the secrets, I trust the truth<br>I trust the old, I trust the youth  
>I trust my Life, I trust My Death<br>...I trust My right, I trust my left  
>I trust the Ground, I trust the skies<br>I trust the Truth but not the lies."_

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><p>'<em>Brrrrring.'<em>

The bell signaling there were only ten minutes until classes started rang throughout the bustling halls like a siren. Craig swung open the front doors of the school with Tweek on his heels. They were late. It wasn't Craig's fault; though, it normally was. Tweek finished his thermos of coffee halfway there, and insisted they go back and get more. Unwillingly, the raven went along with it, thus the story of why the two were behind schedule.

Craig sighed and unlocked his locker casually. '

"_9-28-38…shit, missed a number. 9-28-38…"_

'_Click'._

He opened the steel cubicle lazily and grabbed the needed books for his next class. Language—Ugh. Tweek grabbed his things too, his locker being directly across from the other boy's. Craig snuck up behind the locker door, tapping his foot impatiently. He already had all the stuff he required, but waited for the blonde, for it seemed like the polite thing to do. The jittery boy took one last sip of his hot beverage before placing it in his locker gently, almost as if it were a diamond. He let out a shaky breath before shutting it, jumping at the sight of the Craig hiding behind its door; letting out a short, squeaky cry.

"Ngh! D-don't do that..!"

"Sorry." He replied sarcastically. "Let's get breakfast, I'm starving."

Tweek nodded, following him into the lunchroom. Craig's eyes scanned the room emotionlessly; searching for the usual bunch of people he and Tweek socialized with, but saw no one really familiar.

"I don't think anyone else is eating today…" he murmured.

"Gah! Wh-what about Kyle..?"

"Where?"

The blonde extended a finger, pointing in the direction of the redheaded Jew. He was sitting alone, a somewhat hollow expression on his face. He was bundled up tightly in his green scarf, clutching himself for what seemed like warmth. Craig raised an eyebrow, confused. Usually that kike had Stan, Kenny…or fuck, even _Cartman_ with him. Why was he sitting all alone? And, why did he look so…emotionless?

"I think we should see what's wrong…"

The raven shook out of his trance, scoffing. "Hell no, he's Stan's problem, not ours. Let's go."

He began to walk away, but the other boy took a hold of his wrist before he could even take two steps. Craig looked at Tweek, down at his wrist, then back to Tweek; the slightest bit of surprise transitioned onto his face. When did this smaller, wirier boy become so strong? Well, maybe not strong, but damn, he had an iron grip.

He looked up at him with big, pleading eyes, mouthing the word, 'Please..?' Craig sighed irritatingly, rolling his eyes. "Fine." He muttered, releasing Tweek's grip from his wrist and leading the way towards the day walker.

Kyle sat there, studying the table closely with his arms wrapped tight around himself. Though, he wasn't studying it, but merely lost in thought. Thoughts about two nights ago when he had discovered Kenny's sick hobby. His eyes narrowed the more he thought about it. He scolded himself mentally for not taking the situation sensitively, and he must have looked like a pussy running out of there so fast, _crying_. He brought his hands up towards his face, running his fingers through his curly hair; causing his hat to slip off to the ground. Hell, he didn't even notice. He felt as if he were going to throw up.

"Yo, Broflovski, I think something died on your head."

He removed his hands from his eyes and glared up at the raven, noticing how he was no longer wearing his hat. "Fuck off, Craig." He retorted, picking up the green ushanka from the floor.

"Don't tell me to fuck off you little—"

Tweek placed a hand on his shoulder, meaning for him to calm down. He did, but didn't look happy about it, and flipped the Jew off behind his back.

"K-Kyle, are you—ngh—alright…? You look s-sick…"

Kyle sighed, placing his hat back on his head firmly. "Yeah, I'm fine…why?"

"He just told you why, dipshit."

"Craig, shut the hell up!"

He flipped him off again.

"Stop." The blonde said strictly to his friend. He backed off. "I meant…where's everyone else..?"

He shrugged. "I'unno actually...I think Garrison's having this stupid Jeopardy thing in the auditorium where if you win you could skip out on math for a week."

Kyle didn't care much for this, that's why he was in the cafeteria. He was really already good at math, and could finish his homework in less than 15 minutes. After all, he _was_ Jewish.

"That's dumb." Craig sighed, finally taking a seat at the table. Tweek did the same. He chewed his thumb nail, staring off into space somewhere, while the blonde had his eyes plastered to Kyle's, tapping his fingers nervously on the table. He opened his lips to speak, but was interrupted.

"I bet I know what's wrong."

They both turned to stare at Craig, who was still staring off mindlessly somewhere else. Kyle's brows furrowed. He highly doubted Craig knew what was going on, but whatever.

"Humor me then." He said with a sigh, avoiding eye contact.

"It's Kenny."

The redhead tensed, and looked at Craig, who he now saw was already staring at him. Those deep blue eyes were like daggers, piercing right into his crude disguise. He quickly drew his gaze away again, afraid that the raven had some sort of Medusa-like powers that would turn him to stone. Craig's bored expression remained, though he knew he was right. Tweek for one was jittering like crazy, for he knew what was going on as well. He let out another squeak.

"Y-you don't mean-..?"

"We know about Kenny's cutting problem."

Kyle felt an unusual wave of anxiety wash over him, mixed with confusion. How did they know? Kenny wouldn't tell them…would he?

"How…?" he managed to whimper.

"Same as you probably found out. I was helping him with his luggage out of the plane and his sleeves just kind of…slipped." He shrugged. "He should really put some bandages around those things or something, though."

Kyle shrugged in agreement. Kenny did hide them rather poorly. He wished he'd never seen the cuts; and he never would have if he had never gone to go look for the blonde at the party. He felt his eyes getting heavier and knew there might be tears. Tweek saw this and reached across the table, placing his hand gently on his shoulder encouragingly, but didn't say anything. What was he supposed to say? It's okay? Everything will be alright? He wasn't positive on the matter, so why promise things? Instead, he just gave him the best fake smile he could manage.

Kyle hated the way Tweek was so caring and sensitive. The way he tried to comfort him just made him want to cry more, though he knew he was in pain as well. He saw it in his eyes, the way they never really glistened or shone. Tweek always had his guard up, never knowing what to expect. He and Craig have been dating for two months, but never kissed because he was afraid of getting hurt. Kyle knew Craig as a person more than Tweek, and if he knew something, he was a total asshole. But, he was different with the blonde; he was always so protective. They contrasted each other's personalities well. Craig was always there to mellow Tweek down with his blank personality and monotone voice, while Tweek kept Craig from getting into fights and keeping his grades up. The irony of it all was that they used to hate each other…but now seemed the best of friends. Kyle sighed. They really were soul mates, and it pained him to see the blonde so scared of a_ kiss. _He could clearly see that his heart was slowly breaking, but kept it to himself. It would be easier to avoid complications that way.

Kyle gave a fake smile back in appreciation and shrugged Tweek's hand off his shoulder gently. He felt a little better knowing someone understood. He glanced back towards Craig who was still gnawing his nail, except now he was back to staring into space, as usual. He smiled inwardly at his boring persona, and wondered what Tweek found so appealing about it. Maybe it was just a guilty pleasure, or maybe it was just love.

His smiled quickly faded as he focused back on the situation, making Tweek's crude smile fade as well.

"But guys…what are we going to do about this..? I mean, we can't have him keep doing this to himself."  
>"Why not?"<p>

"C-Craig..." Tweek stated firmly.

"Sorry." he apologized, leaning back in his chair. "I think we should tell the guys."

Kyle's eyes narrowed. "Are you crazy? Kenny would never forgive me if we told on him. We should just help him ourselves."

"Chill Broflovski, we can tell them not to let anyone know."

"Yeah, I'm so sure Clyde wouldn't whine to someone and Cartman wouldn't tell the whole fucking school."

Craig shrugged, placing his feet on the table. "It was just a thought."

"Hey guys!"

They all flinched at the familiar voice. They turned their heads to face the music, only to find a rather happy Kenny McCormick, with the most unusual smile stuck on his face. He had the gang behind him: Cartman, Clyde, Butters, Token, and Stan. Seeing who it was, they all quickly glanced away.

"Oh, hey Kenny..." Tweek breathed timidly.

"Hey Tweekers." The other blonde smiled. Craig scowled at the crude nickname. He went on.

"So dudes," he began. "Tomorrow, you may all sleep in because we're ditching. 11 AM, my place."  
>Craig gave a single chuckle. "All nine of us..? Isn't someone gonna notice?"<p>

Kenny rolled his eyes. "Who cares? Let loose for once and do something besides brushing your ferret and making out with your boyfriend."

"Guinea pig." He corrected.

"Hey, it's not any of my business what you two sweeties call each other, alright?" he grinned.

Craig flipped him off.

"Anyway, why you may be wondering? Okay, you ready? Carnival."

The three stared, dumbfounded.

"Come on guys, this will be fucking _awesome._ Kenny's uncle is renting it to him for free for _three days." _ Stan budged in. "He said he deserved it for all the hard work he's done in Iraq…it'll rock!"

"Stan," Kyle sighed. "Can I talk to you for a little bit?"

He blinked. "Yeah, sure dude."

"Umm," Kenny cut in, grabbing Stan by the shoulder. "Stan, just...give me a second with Kyle. Then you can talk"

He shrugged and walked back towards the group.

"Kyle," he began. "I know what you want to tell Stan, so don't do it."

Kyle looked down. "Dude, Kenny, I'm sorry about being so inapprehensive about your problem, but don't you think he's gonna find out sooner or later? I mean, you have to tell him sometime, or I will."

"Please." He pleaded, grabbing his arms. "You can't tell him, he'll hate me! I mean, you hate me now, don't you?"

"Kenny, I don't hate you. I'm _worried_ about you. You need help; see a doctor or something."

"I know, I know." He sighed. "I've stopped cutting, okay? I mean, the way you ran out of my house the other day made me think how it would affect others…I'm done with it."

Kyle looked at his feet. He was 50% sure the blonde was lying, but the other 50% wanted to believe him. He sighed.

"Okay…" he said. "I…I'll believe you."

Kenny smiled warmly, taking the Jew into a hug. "Thanks so much dude, I appreciate it."

Kyle hugged back, though he wasn't really into it. He felt rather dreary, as if he made an awful mistake. He tried to ignore it best he could but it chewed its way deeper into his mind, eating him alive. When the hug was released, Kenny gave another comforting smile and jogged back towards their gang, leaving Kyle alone. He stared at his feet some more, wondering if he had made the right decision to trust his friend. Kenny was a troublemaker, how could he be completely sure..?

"Hey man. You needed to talk?"

The redhead jumped, surprised by Stan's cameo appearance. He glanced at Kenny, who was giving him a pleading stare. Kyle sighed.

"No…never mind."

* * *

><p><strong>R&amp;R please!<strong>


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